


Tidings of Comfort and Joy

by sablesheep



Series: Red Letter Days [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Don't Judge Me, F/F, F/M, Smile, family sentimentality, holiday nonsense, it's just supposed to be cute ok?, just sort of silly, totally not canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 22:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sablesheep/pseuds/sablesheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Decorating a mansion for Christmas is literally the worst thing on the face of the planet. Especially when your wife is over-compensating for none of your kids coming home and insists on doing so over a month early because screw that some people have better things to do. Like anything but decorate.</p><p>[Empty Nest Angst turns into 'where the hell did all these kids come from go back to where you came from oh wait that's me]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tidings of Comfort and Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgentApocalypse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentApocalypse/gifts).



> Using my headcanon name for Mindfang from _Deep Waters_ , don't judge me. I don't like her canonical adult name because it feels *really* weird in normal conversation. It's a little awkward since I keep Rosa's name but just go with it. It's supposed to be cute don't spare things too much thought.
> 
> Also Christmas is my favorite and I'm really homesick. Headed home in three weeks but, still, missing everyone today. Happy Holidays/Thanksgivukkah.

Mindfang has no qualms about wealth. Money is good and she has quite a lot of it. A good amount of said money, in fact, has been poured into this massive structure she calls _home_. She'd hate how expensive the fucking place was to build if not for its sentimental value-- _she_ might not love having a giant country estate but it makes her wife excruciatingly happy and she couldn't deny her that. Or much of anything, really. If Mindfang had her way, they'd be living in the middle of the city in a two bedroom apartment. Just cram all the children into the living room, made the second bedroom her office and keep the master for themselves. 

Perhaps that suggestion would have gone over better if she'd said 'fine, we can give the second room to the kids, Rosa' instead of 'well they don't live with us anymore so I doubt they give a fuck'. Reminding Rosa that all four of their children are now grown and spread out across the world is _never_ a good idea. Seriously-- you'd think that a single mother who spent a decade and a half struggling to raise two daughters on the budget of a small-time adoption agent would be happy for a _break_ from constantly mothering. But, nope. The _second_ they finally have the house to themselves it's all 'let's spend every weekend visiting our children'.

Of course, not _this_ weekend. This weekend, they're decorating the house. For _Christmas_. The _entire_ house. In November. Let that sink in-- NOVEMBER. The entire fucking mansion, from the garage to the basement to the library to the in-law suite that Mindfang only threw into the floor plan in order to bribe her eldest stepdaughter into moving in with them until she went to college.

Instead of doing anything useful like... rewatching Downton Abbey and drinking too much wine, they're decorating for a holiday that's over a month away still. And Mindfang is less than pleased with all of this shit. Why did she let her wife design such a big house. Just-- why? _Why_?

Because in _theory_ having a big house on the oceanfront with a nice pool in the backyard, and enough room for the dogs to run around outside _and_ for Rosa to still have her rose garden _and_ her herb garden-- because of fucking course we need both of those, heaven forbid we not have fresh herbs at any hour of the night-- was a nice thing. Big house equals space for four daughters from two families, two Irish wolfhounds that are well-exercised and two wives able to avoid each other for days a at a time. Perfect for everyone. Even the cars!

But she's beginning to realize that she is an idiot and she should probably just rip up her PhD and go get a menial job somewhere. Drop out of the publishing game, go teach.. uh... what's easy to teach? Fuck all there isn't anything easy to teach. She should just go--

" _Vienna where's that box_!"

\--throw a box of Christmas ornaments at her wife's head. Mindfang sniffs angrily, awkwardly wiping her nose on her shoulder. There's a box half as tall as she is clutched in her arms and if one of them wasn't bionic this would not be happening. 

See, another argument against prosthetics. Your wife can't make you do stupid shit when you've only got one fucking arm. Exact reason why she didn't want to become the million dollar woman. Still, she hefts the box higher on her hip and continues down the front stairs to their massive great room. The cold light of the early winter morning is streaming in from every angle, bleaching the richness of the wood floors into drab monotones against the bright green and red of festive color that sprung up overnight. Literally overnight-- not like 'it happened so fast I didn't even notice!' overnight.  
They had collapsed into bed, had some pretty fucking awesome sex, fell asleep cuddled together and then-- eight in the morning-- she was shaken awake and asked to help 'the nice man from the delivery agency' bring in the tree.

"Where the fuck did you even find an eighteen and a half foot Christmas tree, Rosa-- just--" Mindfang drops the box onto their biggest couch with a disgusted huff, crossing her arms over her chest. The bay just outside is covered in frost and her sailboat, beached for the rest of the year, rests forlornly on the sand, the panorama making her grateful to be inside where it's _warm_. Except for the whole decorating thing. She could do without that.

Rosa glances down from the ladder and gives her the worst fucking smirk. She's standing up there at the top of their tallest ladder-- the 23 foot one she uses to do maintenance on the boat when it's already moored-- like she isn't at all concerned with her safety, wrist deep in pine needles as she wraps white lights all around the branches. They aren't plugged in yet and, even if they were, the effect would be lost in the brightness of the afternoon. "Craigslist," she says, primly, raising an eyebrow and tossing her hair out of her face. "I got this tree on Craigslist."

Mindfang wrinkles her nose and makes a sound of utter distaste. She flops down beside the decorations and begins to fidget with the hem of her sweater, one of many she's received over the years of marital... harmony. There's a loose thread that she's interested in pulling, just to see how Rosa would react. " _Damnit_ Rosa, I told you to stop going on there _do you know what kind of people are going to come and murder you in your sleep now_?"

"Calm down, Vienna," She laughs and, as always, Mindfang can't do anything but give her an indulgent grin. "I poached it from the White House, that's all."

She rests her chin against one of the metal rungs and, not for the first time this morning, Mindfang groans. Oh fuck she can't say no to that face-- look at how happy she is. She's _never_ this happy, these days. All morning it's been like having her back after she's been on a long trip, the wonderful solace that can only be found in one's spouse after they've been away long enough that you forget what a pain in the fucking ass they can be sometimes. Not that Rosa hasn't been her normal, enchantingly sarcastic self lately. No, she's been more than happy to spend every waking moment at Mindfang's side, practically turning herself into a shadow that occasionally insults her.

But she's been _sad_ all the same, more subdued and inclined to stare at her knitting for hours on end instead of actually making anything. Christmas decorating might not be enjoyable, but it sure as hell is forward progress. 

"Oh my God I love you, let's get married and have four children." Mindfang proposes, making herself a little more comfortable. It's hard to find a place for her legs, considering how many boxes she's piled up around herself, but she finds a way. Rosa laughs and begins the slow descent down the ladder. The lights are, apparently, finished, and Mindfang sends a silent prayer to the patron saint of wifely duties thanking her for excusing her from such an awful task. 

"Would love to but sadly my current wife made me sign a pretty airtight pre-nup." She purrs and yeah, that face is incredibly attractive. She is really working it and Mindfang very much appreciates the effort.

Mindfang rolls her eyes and throws a pinecone at Rosa's head. Her aim is good but Rosa's reflexes are even better. The pinecone, which is really a piece of intricately carved wood embellished with 24 karat gold leaf that Aranea bought her for Christmas last year, is primly caught in one of her wife's hands and, without reaction, she hangs it. 

"Fuck you Rosa, you know you're getting almost everything when I die. Do you not remember my life insurance policy?" Mindfang huffs, tossing her hair back. Ugh so much hair, why does she have so much hair? It's such a pain in the ass and she can't even blame it on Vriska anymore when there's long gold hairs in their home baked goods. Or knitted items. Or handspun yarn. Hair gets everywhere, none of that is _actually_ her fault.

"Of course I do, darling," Rosa murmurs, hopping off the last few feet of ladder in conjunction with a horrified yelp from Mindfang. "That's why I haven't been able to go through with any of my well-planned homicides."

She collapses into Mindfang's lap and kisses her. That is nice. That sort of makes up for the fact that she's covered in pine sap and smells like a cheap air freshener but not _totally_.

This could honestly be an advertisement straight from the Christmas edition of the LL Bean catalog, which she has strategically placed on Rosa's bedside table open to the 'outerwear' section because she really wants a better windbreaker for sailing season and _someone_ put a ban on coat-buying. There's a fire in their hearth, there's pine boughs draped along all the windows, a wreath is hanging on the wall to either side of their giant ass TV and she can smell something baking in the kitchen. The tree is _huge_ and she's reasonably sure it could _actually_ be the award winning specimen intended as a gift to the First Lady. 

She's wearing a hand knit cable sweater with matching socks and Rosa's cuddled up in her favorite velvet dressing gown, tinsel still trapped in her hair from a messy argument earlier that morning. This could be a very photogenic scene and could probably boost sales of flannel shirts tenfold. She'd probably buy everything advertised. It's a nice thought... Except for the fact that she has to _do something_ in this scenario. Fuck LL Bean and their expectations of active lifestyles. 

"I brought your fucking box, Pet, can I be excused?" Mindfang mutters against Rosa's mouth, whining when she presses her sticky palms against her face and then pulls them away, leaving an uncomfortable residue of sap. 

Rosa clambers out of her lap, awkwardly contorting herself to examine the contents of the box. She goes from benevolently pacified to frowning in same amount of time it takes for Mindfang to hang on up her lawyer. "Vienna! This isn't the right box!"

"Are you serious? Are you _serious_ , Rosa?! What the hell! You said get the rest of the decorations and I got the stupid ornaments--" 

"I meant the mantle decorations, not the ornaments-- we can't _decorate the tree_." She sounds so scandalized that this could be the 'hey so our youngest daughter just moved out can we finally have that massive orgy you promised me on our wedding night?' conversation they had the second they closed the door of Kanaya's dorm.

Mindfang presses her head to Rosa's shoulder and sobs, melodramatically. "Why the fuck notttttttt? It's up, it's got lights, we've got the garland--" 

"We can't decorate the tree without the _girls_ , Vienna." She says, pitifully, giving Mindfang a brokenhearted stare.

"Oh for the love of-- Rosa they never helped decorate! Your ones just sat there and told me that things looked awful and I have no taste, my older one didn't stop texting her girlfriend and Vriska just sits there and tries to think of ways to-- I don't even know, light the tree on fire and not get caught? Turn pine needles into renewable energy? I got nothing, but she definitely was not into the 'family bonding via the hanging of glass things on dead branches' shit--"

" _Vienna_!" Rosa looks scandalized, which is astonishing because, seriously, she can't have missed the fact that all of their children have a tendency to be apathetic bitches when it comes to 'family' time. What did she expect when they got married? That her eighteen year old and her eleven year old were going to be totally super really awesomely excited to get two new sisters, fifteen and twelve, and have to share their kickass mom? Yeah, that's not going to happen no matter how much they all pretend that it did for Rosa's sake. 

Not that she doesn't love her stepdaughters, of course. Kanaya and Porrim are admittedly kickass in their own ways and she's always glad to have them around and even remembers their birthdays, okay? That's commitment-- remembering the day someone else's kid came out of someone else's vagina. 

Well. Maybe it isn't since it was her _wife's_ vagina, but that sort of requires thinking about her having had a husband at some point in time and she's sort of iffy about that. Which is sort of a double standard on her point considering that Rosa's ex had the decency to pull a Houdini; Dualscar's still always running around and bitching about custody even though Aranea's got a mortgage and Vriska's JYA on the 'Semester at Sea!' program. The fuck is up with that; she's an English major with the history minor _why_ is she JYA with a biology program? 

But whatever. Not important.

"Sorry!" Mindfang tries to cuddle her, but Rosa shakes her off and climbs off the couch. "But if you're going to wait for them to get home before you do jack shit why the hell did you start so early!? You know Porrim's going to have a field day of rage with the house being done up before Thanksgiving!"

Rosa's across the room, anxiously sorting through the boxes she left there earlier that morning. Mindfang can't see her face but her back certainly expresses the sentiment of 'you are not getting any for like six weeks if you don’t shut up'. Mindfang, like the awesome wife she is, ignores this visual cue in favor of deciding to just hide her wife's vibrator and hope she gets desperate enough to forget her anger.

"Rosa, come on, what are you doing?" She runs a hand through her hair, yelping when she rips out a few strands with her robot hand, each of them tangled in the complicated mechanisms of her fingers. Ugh, stupid robot hand. "Also isn't her boyfriend Jewish or something? I mean I'm Jewish-- we're Jewish? Ugh whatever some of us are also Jewish and we should probably get some multicultural stuff in here before he comes over because, honestly, she will eat us alive if we're not 110% politically correct at all times--"

And she may actually have a point-- how does a culturally Jewish-Muslim mixed household only decorate for Christmas? Rosa doesn't do much religiously and Porrim and Kanaya sure as hell don't, but she and her girls are decently religious, so, like... ugh fuck she should make sure she can find at least one menorah this year.

Rosa slams down the box she's holding and sinks down to her knees. She almost looks like she's attempting to decide the merits of climbing inside of it and never coming back out. "He's not coming for Thanksgiving so I don't think that's an issue."

"Since when!? All I've heard for the past week was you freaking out about what to serve for four people and still have it be a "real" Thanksgiving, do not tell me you're changing everything because we're down to three--"

"Porrim isn't coming either. They made other plans." She decides that the box will not make an appropriate hideout and starts up the ladder once more, stomping so hard on the rungs that Mindfang's a little worried she might wreck the floor beneath.

Oh god, none of their kids are coming home for Thanksgiving. _None_. That's... well... kind of nice. It'll make for a less stressful Christmas. But not for Rosa. Mindfang coos, sympathetically, and makes a move to get up. Well. This explains everything. The decorating, the anxiety, the crying. 

She might not be the best wife, okay? "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry--"

" _Don't_ , Vienna." She snaps, glaring over her shoulder. She looks agonizingly furious, scowling at the tree like it insulted the honor of her forefathers. "I don't want to talk about it. It's _fine_."

"Fuck yeah it's fine." Mindfang beams, falsely cheerful, and clambers off the couch to climb the ladder behind her. None of the kids are coming home? That is a good thing, right? They'll have a holiday to themselves for once. It'll be weird not to have them, of course. She hasn't missed a Thanksgiving with Vriska and Aranea ever, even the year that she lost her arm and just woke up from surgery a few hours before Midnight made it not-Thanksgiving anymore. 

It'll be weird, she supposes, not to see them. But it'll be okay. She kisses Rosa's head and laughs a little. "We can go on _vacation_ instead of doing dishes. Ohhh can we go to Italy? I want to go to Italy!"

"No, Vienna--" 

"Fine. Bermuda? Bahamas? Argentina? I don't really give a fuck _where_ just so long as it's warm and I can rent a yacht." Mindfang wraps her arms around her waist and squeezes. She smells like sadness and her perfume, carefully rationed from the bottle of Chanel No. 19 Mindfang bought her for their first anniversary that she still surreptitiously refills when Rosa's out of town for the weekend because _they can afford to buy another bottle she doesn't need to be that stingy_. But no, it's totally okay to build a mansion with her money but totally not cool to buy a new bottle of perfume.

"I don't want to go to the Bahamas!" Rosa doesn't shake her off, probably because they're pretty precariously balanced. "I want to have my girls home and have dinner and do their laundry _I don't want to be alone_."

Mindfang inhales sharply, not bothering to pretend that she's not hurt because that never helps any situation ever. "...Well. I. I mean. Rosa--" 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Rosa amends, quickly, letting out a strangled sigh that sounds like it might turn into crying. "It's just. They're all leaving me behind. And I'm so scared to lose them."

Mindfang wrinkles her face up. "They're not lost. They're just growing up. That happens! They'll be back for Christmas, won't they?"

"Yes. I know." Rosa rubs at her eyes, hazel irises sparkling a timid green as she starts to cry. "And-- I know it's silly-- but I thought if I decorated it might feel like they were coming back sooner and I could trick myself into not being sad, because it's not fair to you, but I just-- I just miss having someone to take care of."

"I'm still crippled and half-blind you know. And I'm awful at doing laundry." Mindfang kisses her cheek and she shakes her off, gently. 

"Vienna. That's not the same." Rosa sighs, repeating the mantra for the six millionth time.

Mindfang huffs and squeezes her one last time. The force of her breath ruffles Rosa's hair and she's ever quick to smooth it back down. "I know, Pet. I know. I miss them too."

"..." Rosa makes a face and reaches out into the tree to fix some miniscule detail about the lights that Mindfang can't see at all. 

Mindfang nudges her, hard, in the back. "Shut up. Do you want to decorate this tree or not?"

"But the girls--" She protests, meekly. 

"Decided not to come home and help, darling, and they will pay for it. We're going to decorate and send them pictures and make them so homesick that we'll spend thousands of dollars for last minute flights home."

"...Do you think that will work?" Rosa mumbles, hopefully, and Mindfang drops off the ladder with a string of obscenities.

"Okay, Rosa, the one thing that our kids aren't afraid to do is spend money, okay? _We own a plane_. Did you forget about the robot arm meets Homeland Security fiasco?"

"I like it when you call them our kids." Rosa climbs down to a manageable level, her head just out of her direct line of sight, emerald velvet dressing gown the only indication of who she is.

Mindfang drags the boxes of ornaments-- three in all-- over to the foot of the ladder. Hefting the smallest one against her hip, she climbs up enough to pass it off to her wife. "Damn right they're _our_ kids because there is no way in hell that I'd spend so much time picking out Christmas presents for other people's children, other people's children are the _worst_."

"But not mine."

"No, not yours because they are also mine. Anything associated with me is automatically kickass, just look at how fantastic everything in this house is."

Rosa sighs and takes a few more steps up the ladder. Mindfang straightens and hands her an armful of the red ribbon they use in lieu of a garland.

"Come on. Let's make time go faster for you, mama bear." She murmurs, raising an eyebrow. "But if I don't get eight dozen cookies out of this I'm going to be hiding your vibrator."

"...What?" Rosa laughs, her face breaking open like a storm cloud has been blown off the horizon. 

"No. Wait. That was an earlier threat that does not work in this context. But since we're on the subject I do need a new one. So. Y'know. _Christmas_."

"I am not buying you a vibrator, Vienna. Do you remember what happened last time? I wrapped it and put it in the closet with the rest of the presents, mislabeled it and we ended up giving _our daughter's girlfriend_ a sex toy."

Mindfang clears her throat, awkwardly. "Well. I'm pretty sure they're getting good use out of it?"

And that's when Mindfang gets shoved off the ladder. 

* * *

Luckily the four foot fall does not damage anything other than her pride; she lands on her 600,000 dollar co-pay arm and whines, but nothing _bad_ happens.

Which on any other occasion would be _great_ but, well, a broken arm would get her excused from decorating duties and some Vicodin so, y'know... kind of worth the pain. But Rosa doesn't even fret over her and that's how Mindfang knows she's really _that_ upset.

So she doesn't complain as she's bluevagina'd into moving the ladder while Rosa wraps the first garland. It takes an hour and, by the time Rosa's tucking the ribbon away at the tree top, Mindfang just wants to drink and sleep for hours.

Instead, she carefully pulls the ornaments out of the giant mover's boxes, laying the boxes of glass bulbs beside one another-- gold, red, and gorgeous iridescent glass-- and then begins the arduous process of pulling out the 'sentimental' ones, each wrapped in tissue and bubble wrap. She places each of them onto their coffee table and then moves onto the couches and ottomans once that surface area is covered.

Rosa hangs the bulbs while Mindfang fidgets with boxes on the floor. They work in a terse silence, Mindfang passing her ornament after ornament. They start with getting all of the simple ones hung, the ones that aren't anything at all unique. They get everything evenly distributed by four o' clock, by which time Mindfang doesn't want to do anything but eat the cookies that Rosa keeps disappearing to pull in and out of the oven, drink some peppermint vodka and watch Arrested Development again. 

But they've got work to do. Rosa climbs off the ladder and stares at the spoil spread out before them, decades worth of ornaments culled from their family collections. There's boxes more upstairs that they hang on smaller trees in the dining room, keeping their histories on display. 

But these are the important ones. The beautiful ones bought in foreign countries, the ones sculpted by Kanaya in her first college pottery class, the ones that Porrim sent from Prague when she spent a year between college and the 'real' world wandering around Europe or the gorgeous pieces of Swarovski that Aranea's received as emotionless gifts from her girlfriend's mother that she insists are too fancy for the penthouse she and Meenah share in downtown Boston because she's a 'grad student'. And there certainly isn't anything like the things Vriska's managed to find for them while scouring the internet-- she might be quiet and caustic, but she knows her family well enough to buy them beautiful things. 

Mindfang has never thought about it before-- how much these pieces of glass and porcelain matter to her. She bought that one with Rosa the last time they visited Venice, that one when they went to Greenland, this other one from their stay in Germany. She's a storyteller; She knows all about the history you can find in the smallest things but, for whatever reason, she'd never thought about her Christmas decorations as touchstones before. It's trite, isn't it? Holiday commericalism bringing joy. But she likes it all the same, remembering balancing a one month old Vriska against her hip while she comforted Aranea, crying over having dropped a terra cotta bell ornament that, with an evening's effort and superglued fingers, still proudly embellishes the tree. She remembers the look on Rosa's face the first time she got to decorate this room for Christmas, all previous joy about their home and marriage far eclipsed the moment they plugged the lights in the first time. Hell, she even smiles to remember the hungover New Year's spent lazily packing ornaments away while watching the Forsyte Saga

Rosa stares at them too and, occasionally, reaches out to trace her fingers across a piece of glass or smile at a long-recalled memory of a Christmas gone awry. There's even more memories in the ornaments left boxed upstairs, the things that their daughters made them when they were young, the 'Baby's First' series and the beautiful things sent to Rosa for her first marriage by her grandparents back in Morocco-- not to mention the silly Hallmark things they bought their kids to make them smile at Santa's cleverness. 

She can't do this. She _really_ can't and it's going to be a pain in the ass to admit it. Rosa loves it when she's right and Mindfang hates being wrong. But she can't do it. She can't pick up the porcelain fox embellished with silver leaf that Vriska found Rosa, somewhere on the internet, for a present the year after they married, without having Vriska there to put it on the tree. She can't conceive of arranging the series of stained glass angel ornaments that Kanaya created during a winter session course on artisanal European art forms without Kanaya being present to critique the angle they're hung at for the best light exposure. Nor does she want to touch the gold-leaf encrusted oak leaf that Porrim got in Copenhagen, the one that's bent from her suitcase being lost and Mindfang spending six hours shouting down phone lines to track down for her. And-- well-- hanging the 'Our First Christmas' ornament that Aranea awkwardly gave them for her and Rosa at their first family holiday is what makes her start to cry.

She stretches out on the oriental rug and groans, covering her face. "I'm crying over _Christmas decorationssssss_."

Rosa is quick to lie beside her and, for a good ten minutes, they both indulged in the unique misery that's the fate of an empty nester. 

"I want our kids to come home." Mindfang admits, groaning. "But I also want them to have their own families and be happy and fight over who's house we go to so we don't have to do all the work and-- I just--"

"I thought it would be so nice just to lie around with nothing to do but make out with you and have sex in inappropriate places and let you make me feel bad about my awful billiards playing." Rosa groans, sitting up. "Just us, for the first time. Having our own life. But I-- I just--"

"It's not the same." Mindfang agrees without needing to hear it, sighing from her diaphragm. "Not at all." She sits up and curls her arms around Rosa, giving her an awkward hug. 

Rosa strokes the back of her hands and makes a noise of total agreement. "I don't want to do this."

"I don't either." Mindfang huffs. "I've been telling you that all morning."

She rolls her eyes and shakes Mindfang off. "I'm glad we got the house done but-- I just-- I don't want to-- admit this is happening to us."

"Well I wouldn't go that far but... let's put the special ones away and wait until Christmas to put them up, huh? They'll all be home a few days early." Mindfang ventures, letting Rosa help her to her feet. "We'll... we'll do it when they're here."

Rosa nods and throws her arms around her. Mindfang hugs her back, holding her until she stops trembling. "Thanks, sweetheart."

"Ugggh I hate it when you call me that." Mindfang groans, shoving her off. "Whhhhhhhhy, Rosa, why do you do this?"

Her wife laughs. "Because you spent all morning taking shots in the attic while I was decorating."

Well. Fuck. She doesn't have a response for that.

* * *

They pass the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving in a quiet happiness, both of them unwilling to talk about the fact that they have a house fully-decorated for a holiday that won't have any guests. 

Rosa bakes a few pies, Mindfang buys a garish paper turkey and leaves it on the table. Rosa starts looking for decent turkey recipes, ignoring Mindfang's muttered reminders of 'I'm a vegetarian'. Mindfang replaces the paper turkey that Rosa threw out with a metal one. They argue for two hours about what they'll do for dinner and eventually decide that they should just get a dinner reservation which Mindfang makes at the best New York restaurant that'll be open for business.

All in all, it's their usual sort of thing but, five days prior, they're still more than a little depressed during their monthly re-viewing of Downton Abbey. 

(Mindfang likes the parts where someone gets in trouble for having sex. Rosa likes the clothes and the idea of having a full staff).

Still, they're doing their best to be happy by looking forward to Christmas. The week before Thanksgiving has them sitting in bed; Rosa's knitting her way through the episode where that one guy tries to sleep with that other guy and that one chick does something and Mindfang's busy surfing amazon in an attempt to figure out what to buy for Aranea's girlfriend because she has a passive-aggressive fish theme to live up to and that takes planning.

When the phone rings, neither of them make a move to get up-- the house line never gets anything but spam. They let it go to voicemail down in the kitchen. Mindfang doesn't think anything of it. Until, of course, her cell phone rings.

"Ugh Rosa get my phone," She grouses, poking her wife with her foot. "Rosaaaaaaaa--"

She throws her phone at her. Mindfang tries to catch it, misses, and it fumbles to the floor. She rolls off the bed to answer it without bothering to glance at the caller ID.

"Vienna Serket speaking," Mindfang grumbles, rubbing at her eyes. 

" _MOM_."

Oh fuck it's one of her kids. And it's not the cute one. Not to say that Vriska isn't just as wonderful as Aranea but-- well-- Aranea's more of a well-trained Dachshund and Vriska's sort of a Doberman. Not one of those PTSD war vet dogs but y'know... one of those half-wolf ones who's really really great 85% of the time but there's always a chance she might kill other household animals. Metaphorically speaking. Her daughter has never murdered anything, thank you very much. But she can get really mean when she's hormonal. Like. Really mean. But then she cries for six hours and it's just super exhausting.

Just-- the point here is that Aranea calls to ask how her day is and inquire after Rosa's health and, on occasion, to talk about books. Vriska calls to complain, argue with her about video games or, at times, just scream bloody murder. And-- okay-- sometimes just to say she misses her. Which Mindfang readily agrees with; Vriska can be trying but she's also... just... well. She takes after her mother. 

But this time it's something a little more serious than bitching about Dragon Age. Vriska doesn't even wait for her to say hello before she starts off on an incoherent rant that quickly dissolves into crying. Mindfang's on her feet in seconds, anxiety going from null to max with impossible speed.

"Baby, I can't hear you-- Sweetheart stop crying, I can't understand-- What was that about pirates? _The US Navy_!? Are you giving me a summary of the new Tom Hanks movie? Oh you have got to be fucking with me--"

Rosa puts the DVD on pause and glances over her shoulder, eyes wide. 

'What is it?' She mouths and Mindfang tries to convey the idea that the US Navy has shut down her daughter's study abroad program due to increased pirate activity in their area and a close call two days ago when only some incredibly clever intervention kept their boat from sinking. The hand gesture for this is a lot of anxious flailing. 

Vriska calms down eventually and Mindfang is able to discern that she's not actually frightened about what's going on so much as she's concerned that she's going to lose a semester’s worth of credits because AMERICA IS AWFUL (her words).

Mindfang assures her that she will sue everyone necessary to prevent that from happening, Vriska cries a bit more and, after some heated debate, she agrees to fly home on the next flight out of Johannesburg to New York.

"Yes, first class," Mindfang assures her, ignoring Rosa's glare because _they can more than afford it_ also her study abroad program basically got hijacked by pirates, so you know what, it's okay. "I know you hate it, baby. I know. But you'll be home for Thanksgiving, won't you?"

"I guess," She grumbles, voice still a bit high pitched with emotion. "I mean. Yeah. That'll be nice. Kind of."

"You bet your ass it'll be nice, stop sulking. I'm going to buy your ticket, okay?" Mindfang grumbles, rolling her eyes. "Yeah I'll get you a night flight-- yes, I'll make sure I'm there to pick you up-- oh my God you need to stop now because you are wearing out my anxiety. Yes, we will make sure there is food in the house, Vriska, we eat food _there is a lot of food_."

She hangs up the phone with an exhausted groan, immediately pinching the bridge of her nose. Rosa's already at work on Expedia without waiting for an explanation.

"The Semester at Sea ship almost got hijacked by pirates or something so they cancelled the rest of the semester." Mindfang grouses, collapsing onto the couch. "So they're sending her home."

"Oh that's _awful_ , poor thing. I _knew_ something would happen when she said she was spending six months on that awful boat." Rosa mutters, making pitying sounds. "I'm sure she'll be so happy to get back home."

"Yeah, well, I think we're going to need to cancel our dinner reservation." Mindfang grumbles, stealing her laptop back because Rosa just does _not_ understand what it means to spoil her children and is probably going to try to book her on one of the awful airlines that's only redeemed through their cheap ticket prices. "No way we can add a third."

Rosa shrugs, squeezing her shoulders. She's smiling in a way that's not at all appropriate considering that one of their daughters is probably having a panic attack in a South African hotel room over the fact that she'll have to brave airport security on her own. She's still got six pins and a few plates in her arm and shoulder and doesn't like to talk about it and then usually ends up getting temporarily detained. "Well, we can ask. They might."

"Uggggh I hate it when our plans get messed up," Mindfang groans, pulling up the number for the Lufthansa's guest services representative. "At least we have pie?"

"And Vriska." Mindfang smiles a little as Rosa squeezes her hand.

* * *

Two days prior and the restaurant will not let them add a third diner until Mindfang bribes them, so that ups Vriska's current cost of Thanksgiving travel to something around six thousand. Small price to pay, though. Mindfang actually cries when she picks her up at the airport and doesn't stop hugging her until they're home and, perhaps, a few seconds here and there when it's absolutely necessary. 

Vriska's always been her own person and Mindfang respects that because she's the same way herself. But it's nice to have her baby happy to be home and seeking her company for once, instead of hiding in her room and reading fanfiction all day. She even helps Rosa cook a few times, to mixed results. 

They're just about to leave for lunch when Rosa's phone rings. Vriska's already in the car, giving all her attention to her own phone. Mindfang lingers in the doorway, plucking a few stray strands of dog hair off her coat cuffs. 

She really shouldn't be surprised when, after a short conversation full of quiet, soothing words and supplications to 'calm down, it's fine' followed by 'no of course, dear, you can come home' Rosa hangs up the phone and says, smugly: "Kanaya's coming home."

"Yeah?" Well, that's two out of four. Fifty percent attendance-- she can live with that.

"Apparently she is very homesick and feels bad about leaving us alone." Rosa says, slowly, slipping her phone into her purse and beaming like a lighthouse in the middle of a twilight hurricane.

"It's only her sophomore year, you know." Mindfang mutters, rolling her eyes and drumming her metal fingers against the doorframe. "Did you really expect her not to come home?"

Rosa laughs, wrapping her scarf around her throat. Mindfang, with the absentness of habit, reaches out and adjusts it for her. "Did you?"

"...No I didn't. She seems pretty happy with that blonde girl, so y'know." Mindfang ushers her out of the door and they settle themselves into the car, Vriska still not paying them much attention. "But I'm glad. It's always nice to have Kanaya around."

(Except now they're totally not getting into that restaurant now). 

* * *

The night before and no one else has called; Porrim sent a card and Aranea, always on top of things, sends a gorgeous cornucopia of flowers for their dining room table with a note of apology. 

Mindfang can't blame her for not being there; Meenah's family has never been exactly _welcoming_ of their daughter's partner and the fact that they're inviting her home is a monumental invent for her. And she gets that. But she still misses her a bit.

Porrim too, of course, because Porrim's always doing something _insane_ with the calm and poise of a woman who lives the quiet life of a suburban WASP. A suburban wasp covered in tattoos, piercings and who usually has multiple partners. 

But it's okay; she and Rosa both got their babies home, they managed to find a menu that makes everyone happy and Rosa is even persuaded to make a cheesecake that's not pumpkin flavored. 

They spend the night before watching all the Lord of the Rings movies (at least Mindfang and Vriska do, Kanaya and Rosa look politely interested for a while before wandering off). Vriska falls asleep in her lap with Mindfang petting her hair with her real hand. She has such lovely curls and Mindfang can't help but remember her as a toddler, hair just as curly, a little blonder and-- well-- running around the house screaming bloody murder for no reason whatsoever.

She's a great kid. So is Kanaya who shuffles through the room a little after 2am, on her way to the kitchen and clearly not expecting to encounter company. She looks more than a little guilty as she wanders back out of the kitchen with the entire bulk bag of Funyuns and a slice of cake.

"Please don't judge me," She hisses as Mindfang gives her a _look_. "I miss my girlfriend and I have two paintings to finish."

Mindfang shrugs and goes back to watching a bunch of Orcs murder shit and cuddling her sleeping child. "No judgment. We've got wine in the fridge if you want that instead?"

Kanaya gives her a condescending glare, but looks tempted all the same. Mindfang grins at her, a sly pink panther expression that always makes Kanaya giggle. "My mom would kill me."

"Yeah, she'd kill me too." Mindfang says, thoughtfully, reaching up to rub at her bad eye. She should really start wearing an eye patch again. "But I'd just blame it on Vriska so, y'know, all would be well."

Kanaya laughs.

* * *

Rosa sleeps in for Thanksgiving, which is decidedly a first for them. She never sleeps past 8 and, this morning, she stays unconscious almost until 10, sitting bolt upright and scaring Mindfang half to death. They proceed to stay in bed until almost 11, both content to do nothing but lounge around since they're not going to eat until 6:30. 

Mindfang has just succeeded in convincing her that they've got more than enough time to have sex when the doorbell rings. 

"What the ever loving fuck?" Mindfang growls, refusing to allow Rosa to get out of bed like she immediately tries to do. It's not hard, she's already sitting on her. "No. No you are not getting up, it's probably just one of those excitedly religious people."

"Well, we should at least invite them in and offer them coffee, perhaps send some pie--"

" _Rosa_ , we donate hundreds of thousands a year to major religious charities. We won't go to hell for turning away one solicitor."

"But--"

The bell rings again, twice this time. Hmm. Apparently they aren't taking no for an answer. Or. Well. Taking 'no response' as an answer. Mindfang groans and slips off her wife's lap. This is the worst.

"I swear to god if you move so much as a _single muscle_ I'm going to sleep on the couch for the next month." She hisses, stomping across their bedroom. The stairs go a lot faster two at a time and even faster when you fall down them, Mindfang discovers-- thank fuck for robot arms, once again. When she gets to her feet, the only thing dented is the exterior metal instead of any _real_ bones.

She wraps her dressing gown around her as modestly as she can, trying to hide the fact that she's only wearing her bra and a pair of boxer shorts. 

The bell rings three times more before she makes it to the door and all she can think about is how much she'd prefer to be having Rosa brush her hair after they'd finished having sex.

Not that they would have finished by now, mind you. But now there probably isn't going to be _any_ sex at all so she feels justified in fantasizing about the after part.

The door is, of course, heavily locked; Mindfang might not be _paranoid_ but she's cautious enough that three locks are needed on top of their security system. Security code, dead bolt, lock, bottom lock-- she undoes them all muttering obscenities under her breath.

Then, with a deep breath and the proper mental preparation to give a properly compassionate rant, she throws the door open. A tide of cold air, just above freezing, sweeps inside. 

Along with Mindfang’s stifled shout of confusion as her older daughter throws herself into her arms shrieking: " _We're getting married_!"

Mindfang hugs her, of course, and settles for gaping, blindly, at her daughter's fiancée. "So, uh... you don't want money then?"

"Well, someone's gotta pay for the wedding." Meenah mutters, stomping inside and shaking the cold off herself. "And it sure as hell won't be me."

* * *

Rosa is, of course, ecstatic. So ecstatic that she almost faints and they have to spend a few minutes making sure her hypotension isn't acting up because that can be an issue.

Dinner has gone from a quiet night in with the four of them to a suddenly raucous party of six; Aranea can't stop talking, telling the story over and over and over again ("We get it, you're engaged!" Vriska finally shouts, much to Rosa's disapproval). The ring is suitably fawned over and even Mindfang has to admit that her future daughter in law has good taste.

It isn't that she doesn't like Meenah. It's more of a polite disdain cultivated to remind her that if anything happens to her daughter, Mindfang will rip her face off. It may also be a side effect from the time she walked in on them fucking a few years ago and almost shot her, but that's beside the point.

"It's such a surprise!" Rosa laughs, bustling around their kitchen with the cheerful energy of a woman who finally has a God-given purpose in life. "We weren't expecting to see you until New Years, at the least. Aren't Meenah's parents disappointed?"

"Doubt it." Meenah mutters, slouching in her chair. Mindfang privately agrees; the Congresswoman isn't the most affectionate of mothers and furthermore has the poor taste to have hired Mindfang's ex-husband as a campaign manager this election season. 

Aranea doesn't notice any of this, of course. She can't stop smiling-- neither can anyone, as a matter of fact, but Aranea is certainly winning. She looks like a fairytale princess, unable to stop blushing, laughing or staring at Meenah like she's the center of her universe. 

That's fair, Mindfang decides. Rosa was just as bad, if not worse, after they got engaged. No, no she was definitely worse because she couldn't stop crying with happiness (which at the time was not at all annoying but did get to be after a week or so). 

"We were in the middle of packing to leave and I was going through Meenah's suitcase to make sure she'd remembered to pack properly--"

Mindfang snorts. Yep. That's her daughter right there.

"--But then I found the box and it was from Tiffany's and then I got really worried that I was supposed to bring a present for her mother--"

Meenah snorts, throwing her hair out of her face. "Yeah like I'd ever get my mom a gift."

"--And I asked her who it was for and she stared at me and dropped a bottle of wine on our kitchen floor and I was worried because I thought something was wrong so I started to call 911--"

"Because that's a totally rational response." Vriska mutters, but she's trying not to smile so no one pays her any heed.

"And she took the phone from me and told me not to call 911 and so I asked if I should buy something for her mom and she said no way, not ever, don't do that ever, and so I was really confused and then I thought it might be her little sister's birthday so I asked about that and she just looked at me and said--"

Meenah groans and presses her face into her hands. Mindfang can tell that she's blushing between her fingers, "Oh my god Aranea don't tell them this."

"What? It's cute!" She stops talking to nuzzle at her and Mindfang only puts up with it because they just got engaged. 

"Go on, Aranea dear," Rosa says, breathlessly, and Mindfang squeezes her hand under the table.

Aranea's beaming now and Mindfang does the same. "So she looks and me and says--" She breaks off to laugh. "She looks as me and says 'Why the _fuck_ would I buy my sister an engagement ring?"

Meenah groans. "Stopppp you're making me sound so stupid."

"And I hadn't looked in the box yet, because that seemed like it would be incredibly rude so I had _no_ idea that it was an engagement ring."

"I _hate you_." Meenah growls. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Aranea giggles. "So I just said: 'oh'. And she said 'yeah' and I said 'oh gosh did I just do something wrong?' and she said 'no fucking duh aren't you supposed to be the smart one?' and I said 'yes, well, aren't you supposed to propose now or something?' and she said 'I don't know you kind of ruined my plan here, I'm not good at improvising' and--"

"Oh my god, just-- I told her: 'Since you already found the ring I might as well ask' and I took the stupid box, knelt down--"

"In the shattered glass and the wine." Aranea says, helpfully and Meenah makes an agonized face.

"Knelt down and asked her to marry me. And then she started crying and... yeah." She shrugs. Mindfang feels a little bad for her; she's clearly mortified that this is the story that Aranea is going to insist on telling to every living soul she meets until a year after the wedding. 

Aranea seems perfectly pleased with it, however. "And when we were taking a taxi to the hospital so that we could get a doctor to get the glass out of Meenah's knees and stitch them up, I mentioned that I should call and tell my stepmother--"

"HEY!" Mindfang growls. She is ignored and, well, she sort of gets that. Rosa's always the one more likely to answer her cell phone. And she's rarely more than six feet away from Mindfang so, whatever, it wasn't like she wouldn't have heard right away. 

"But Meenah said we should just tell you ourselves."

"I didn't want to have the first people to find out be my family. So I said we should drive up for Thanksgiving." Meenah mutters, shrugging. "I wanted someone to be happy for us."

No one says anything to that. They're all more than aware that the Congresswoman is less than supportive of her daughter's relationship and, well, Mindfang's glad for them both that they decided to come here first. Aranea rests her head on Meenah's shoulder and gives her a beatific smile. All four of them-- Vriska, who looks like someone threw a glass of chardonnay in her face, Kanaya who looks like she just read a terrible fanfiction that was just cute enough to make it redeemable but not really, Rosa who can't stop squealing and Mindfang who really really wants to hug them and ask about the wedding cake-- stare at them for a few moments. 

"That's the worst engagement story I've ever heard." Vriska finally mutters, getting up from the table to pull a bottle of wine out of their fridge. Rosa makes a suitably outraged noise, as does Mindfang.

"What the hell, Vriska, we've got like twenty bottles of champagne downstairs why are you going for the Riesling _have I taught you nothing_."

Vriska glowers, but does as implied, stomping off into the wine cellar with muffled obscenities trailing after her. 

"I did have a plan." Is all Meenah says in her own defense, kicking Vriska under the table. "We have a really nice conservatory up at the house and I thought it would be romantic, okay? I didn't know she'd be going through my luggage!"

Mindfang cackles. "That's why you don't leave the ring in the box, kid. Bad idea."

"What do you suggest? Just leaving it in a drawer on its own? Yeah, like that's not easy to lose."

"I wore hers around for like six weeks," Mindfang says, dismissively, indicating Rosa with a tilt of the head. "Didn't even notice."

"It's true, I didn't."

"Yeah, well, you're always dressed up like she's Marie freaking Antoinette, okay?" Meenah grumbles and, it's true, Mindfang is wearing a few thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry already. "You really think little miss nosy over here wouldn't have noticed the sudden addition of a giant ass diamond to my wardrobe?"

It's a valid point. She's in ripped jeans, a worn out Dr. Who t-shirt and a blazer to visit her fiancée’s parents on Thanksgiving and has hot pink streaks in her hair. Meenah isn't exactly the average Tiffany's patron. 

"Well. All that matters is that you're happy." Rosa says, crossing the table to hug both of them. "I'll see what I can do about making the two of you a cake."

Vriska returns with the champagne and shoves the bottle into Mindfang's arms. It takes only a minute for Mindfang to get the bottle open, a few minutes more to get each of them a crystal champagne flute because Mindfang will not stand for this 'using wineglasses to toast her eldest daughter's engagement' shit. 

"To the happy couple." Rosa murmurs, abandoning her cookbook long enough to join the toast. Everyone murmurs in agreement and Aranea proceeds to start crying. 

Yep. Mindfang was wondering how long that would take. 

"To having most of the family together." Mindfang says, with a chuckle. "And to the new family to come."

Rosa kisses her cheek and smiles. "Now hurry up and get me a grandchild."

" _MOM_!" Kanaya gasps, horrified. "You can't _say that_!"

The doorbell rings while Mindfang is busy fawning over her daughter's ring, agreeing that yes, Meenah has impeccable taste and, yes, it does sound very romantic and, yes, of course, she's incredibly happy for her and is incredibly happy to have Meenah joining the family. 

"I love you sweetheart," She murmurs, giving her a massive hug. Vriska, who happens to be walking by, gets grabbed in. "I love you both so much."

"Like fuck you do, I'm awesome." Vriska grumbles, but she hugs her back. Aranea doesn't do anything but cry some more.  
"Thanks mom." 

* * *

Their Thanksgiving dinner defies all expectations. Mindfang meets Rosa's eyes across the table every few minutes or so and she's always smiling so wide that Mindfang wants to cry. 

Their girls are loud-- incredibly loud after so many months spent in quiet serenity, the house feeling more like a private late cabin instead of a posh mansion. Mindfang doesn't mind. It's nice to see them all so happy. Meenah and Kanaya are arguing about the graphics in one of the games Meenah designed for-- whether or not the laws of physics were followed, how the shadows were designed and what programs they used to make the dragons. Vriska and Aranea are having an awkward filial conversation but they're both smiling so Mindfang feels no need to intervene. 

Eventually Aranea asks if she'll be her maid of honor and Vriska can't do anything but nod and hug her, awkwardly. Rosa looks like she's going to cry at that, but doesn't. 

There's enough food to go around, thankfully, and by the time they get around to dessert all of them are barely able to eat. They still do, though. Rosa makes a mean pumpkin cheesecake and refuses to do it at any holiday other than Thanksgiving. 

Mindfang's halfway through her fist spiked coffee when the doorbell rings. Again. 

"I'll get it!" Kanaya chirps and Mindfang wants to ask her where the fuck that energetic need to please was that morning. 

Rosa, sitting at Mindfang's side and yawning as she nibbles at her cake, doesn't make any move to go after her daughter.

"Happy, darling?" Mindfang murmurs and Rosa nods emphatically. Mindfang can't help but agree, kissing her softly. Mmm yes, that is very nice. She tastes like pumpkin and fresh whipped cream and it is _nice_.

Rosa giggles into her lips, then pulls away. "I'm so glad to have them home. It feels so wonderful to have a house full of children."

"Right? Both my girls in one place." Mindfang snorts. "No one trying to kill each other, no bickering over dishes."

"One of them getting married," Rosa reminds her and Mindfang beams. "After dinner we should finish decorating the tree. Put on a movie. Also, we need to try to figure out what we're going to do by way of an engagement party."

"Great minds think alike." Mindfang purrs, squeezing her thigh tightly. "I love you, darling."

"Love you too." Rosa murmurs, nuzzling her. "But I'm not doing the dishes for you."

They both laugh. Vriska, sitting beside them, gags. Meenah and Aranea are too caught up in their own world to even notice another happy couple so no harm done. 

"Mother..." Kanaya appears in the doorway, pale despite her olive skin tone. She's pulling a suitcase behind her and has a heavy tote bag over her arm. 

This does not bode well. Mindfang raises an eyebrow.

"Mother there's something you need to see." Kanaya says, voice shaking. "But, um, you have to promise not to freak out."

Mindfang jumps to her feet, immediately grabbing the carving knife off the debris covering the tabletop. "What is it? Is there someone in the house?"

"Um. Yes but I don't think you should stab her." Kanaya shifts from foot to foot, anxiously. Mindfang hears the distinct noise of an incredibly poised woman stalking across marble in high heels. Ah. 

"Coulddddddd've led with that Kan. So, the prodigal returneth," Mindfang mumbles, laughing to herself. What in fresh fuck. They went from planning a couples vacation to a private island to all four (five?) children in three days. 

It's nice. And now Mindfang doesn't have to feel guilty about having her own little ones back under her roof. All four kids, all of them happy, all of them getting along-- there's absolutely nothing that can startle her yet. 

"Hello family." Porrim coos, cheerfully, appearing behind her sister. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

Kanaya still looks shell shocked as she sets down the bags and flops onto the nearest chair. Mindfang's eyeing her so carefully that it takes her a few seconds to realize that Rosa's grasp on her hand has gone from affectionately soft to labor-induced anxiety. 

She gives her a questioning glance but she doesn't notice-- she's just staring, wide eyed. At her daughter. Mindfang spares another glance.

" _Holy shit._ " She gasps, almost falling out of her chair. "Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me."

Porrim, considerable weight balance on one hip, makes a face. She's not looking at Mindfang though-- just staring at her mother.

"So. Before you freak out... my doctor sent me home because I need to be on bed rest for hypertension and dehydration... so if you get mad and yell at me, you might kill your first grandchild. Remember that." Porrim speaks remarkably calmly for a speech that, for all rights, should be incredibly histrionic. She keeps a protective hand over her _very_ pregnant stomach as she waits for her mother's response.

"Well I couldn't have that, then," Rosa says, laughing more than a little hysterically. And then she faints. 

Yep. Seems about right.

* * *

They leave the dishes on the table to be dealt with later, in favor of tree-decorating. Something was needed to calm Rosa down before she had a chance to lose her shit completely and Mindfang's quick to suggest decorating.

She cuddles Rosa close on their favorite couch. Porrim's occupying the biggest, cushiest armchair closest to the fire and is effectively making all of her sisters-- step, in-law and biological-- cater to her.

"So. You've got a wedding to plan and a baby to prepare for." Mindfang murmurs, laughing. "Shit man, our biggest worry three weeks ago was how we were going to spend Thanksgiving alone. Now we gotta baby proof an entire fucking mansion."

"Porrim already lives in the in-law suite, can't we just baby proof that?" Rosa mutters, already halfway through a bottle of champagne everyone else forgot about. "Oh god I'm going to be a grandmother."

Mindfang kisses her full on the lips, ignoring their usual 'do not make out in front of the children' rule. "You just can't be satisfied, can you?" 

Rosa makes a face but it's still a happy one. "I wasn't expecting a _baby_."

"Yeah, well, Porrim probably wasn't either--"

Porrim throws an ornament at her head. Luckily it's one of the wood ones so when it hits the floor, short of the mark, nothing breaks. "Planned pregnancy. Sperm bank. Lots of interviews." 

Mindfang laughs. Rosa does too and they relax into one another. Meenah's holding the ladder while Vriska hangs an ornament towards the top while Aranea and Kanaya discuss the best place to hang each ornament. Porrim shouts derogatory comments at Vriska's ornament-hanging abilities every few moments, continuously citing 'Pregnant. Mood swings. Shut up' as her excuse. 

Someone's turned on a CD of Christmas songs-- probably Kanaya-- the moon is bright across the bay just outside the windows and frost is beginning to turn the glass into a monochrome kaleidoscope. The fire is crackling in the hearth and there's still a hella lot of cheesecake left-- plus no one has noticed that her coffee mug is full of brandy and whipped cream.

She's got her favorite furry slippers on, the ones with actual rabbit fur and suede that Kanaya _hates_ and Rosa's wrapped herself in a heavy alpaca shawl she knitted last Christmas. They're hiding from the children beneath a heavy velour blanket and it's painfully merry.

Mindfang likes it. A lot. Rosa might be the family matriarch but Mindfangs's still a mother at heart. She loves her kids. And Rosa's kids. Even Meenah, to a certain extent. The baby too, she's sure because, let's be honest, no one can hate their first grandbaby. She's buying that kid a fuckin' diamond tiara a la Breaking Bad except without the kleptomania because she can _afford it_.

Unless it's a boy. Then it's going to have to be a diamond crown because boys look sort of stupid in tiaras. But boys, girls and children of an indiscriminate gender all look nice in ermine capes so maybe that's a better present?

Or maybe she'd be better off paying to have a nursery designed in non-gender specific colors and scheduling a few interviews at the best daycares California has to offer. And leaving it up to Rosa to accidentally make a gender assumption and get into a fight with her kid.

But for now, she doesn't have to think of any of that. Tomorrow she'll go on Amazon and do some shopping but for _now_ she's going to enjoy having her family around her. 

"It's nice to have them home," Mindfang mutters, squeezing her wife and sighing. "But the second they leave we're getting on the first plane to Dubai."

Rosa nods and then goes in for a kiss. "Love you sweetheart."

"Bluh, don't call me that." Mindfang groans.

But she doesn't really mind. Just like she doesn't really mind having any of the children home to fill up the oversized house or even the fact that she had to _do_ stuff to make people happy. Because the house is merry and bright for once and, well, fuck being a Grinch she's really more of an end-of-the-novel Scrooge.

And that's how the world is supposed to be.


End file.
